<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Yoyo by bandgrad2008</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27614041">Yoyo</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandgrad2008/pseuds/bandgrad2008'>bandgrad2008</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>iCarly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:53:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27614041</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandgrad2008/pseuds/bandgrad2008</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's trapped in a game, pulled like a yoyo.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sam Puckett/Carly Shay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Yoyo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted on FFnet June 11, 2012.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>This isn't going to work.</em>
</p><p>I sink in my seat and stare out through the window of the bus. My direction is gone, derailed by a single text message. And even through the overwhelming urge to cry and the want to blame her for doing this, I hate myself. I hate myself for falling head over heels for her, for <em>wanting</em> to be with her. And the worst part is every time I fall, every time I let myself care for someone, I end up in pieces.</p><p>The bus stops and I stand, slinging my backpack strap over my shoulder. I don't know where I am, or where I'm going anymore, but I can't sit still. I can't go to where she is now, or ask her why, or to try and make it work. I'm sure it would never change her mind anyway. She's always been pretty set on her decisions and her actions. I have no chance.</p><p>
  <em>It's a game I don't want to play anymore.</em>
</p><p>The first thing I come across is a small café, my stomach growling in greeting. I haven't eaten in hours, since she sent the text, my appetite dissolving with her words. And I order something miniscule, something I won't lose soon, in case she decides to break me further.</p><p>That's what this is to her—a game. She knows exactly what she's doing, the string around her finger as she propels the yo-yo downward and up again, and I don't know how long I can do this before the string breaks. And every single time, I know that I'm going to feel like this, as though someone punched me in the stomach with a brick, but I let myself do it anyway. I hang onto the string and I do nothing to stop the movement, the consistent up and down.</p><p>I'm an idiot.</p><p>My phone vibrates with another text, one from her, and I know what she's going to say. It's the game and she's inviting me to continue playing. I choose to ignore it, to show her that I'm done playing, but I know I'm going to give in. I'm a fool, unable to save myself. I sigh and glance at the text, wishing I didn't…because I can't stop.</p><p>
  <em>I want you.</em>
</p><p>I stare at my food, my hunger dissipated, and leave the café. I've figured out that no matter where I go, I won't be able to hide from her. I board the next bus toward her and take a deep breath, resting my head against the window, the vibration rattling my brain. I welcome that discomfort, appreciating the lack of ability to think, as the bus begins to move.</p><p>
  <em>Limbs tangled together, twisted in the comforter, whispers against the silent darkness as I bury my face in my neck while I hold her. By now I should be prepared for her words, having suffered them over and over every time I let my guard down, but when she rolls away from me, I close my eyes. I know when I open them, she'll be gone, but I can't watch her walk away, only to make me crawl after her. It's a sick game and I can't stop playing.</em>
</p><p><em>I hear the door close, seconds before my phone rings, and I sigh. It's as though he knows, and before, I used to wonder if he sat outside the window the entire time. But he's attending school on the other side of the country now and he just </em>knows<em>. I answer the phone, remaining silent because I don’t have to say it. "Why do you do this to yourself, Sam? You know that she's just stringing you along, and you keep going back to her."</em></p><p>"<em>It always hurts, Freddie, but I can't just let her go."</em></p><p>"<em>Look, I hate to say anything bad about one of my best friends, and I'm not going to choose sides, but you need to tell her that you can't be with her if she's going to keep changing her mind. If I have to find out what her problem is and why she keeps doing this to you, I will. But for God's sake, Sam, open your mouth." He pauses. "You haven't told her, have you?"</em></p><p>
  <em>I shake my head before I remember that he can't see me over the phone. "No, I haven't. I can't tell her."</em>
</p><p>"<em>By the way she acts about your entire relationship, I wouldn't advise you to tell her. She could just twist it and use it against you. And I know you might not believe it, but I do care that she's hurting you, Sam. It isn't right, especially not for her."</em></p><p>My phone vibrates with a text, and I frown at Freddie's name under the envelope. We haven't been talking as much lately, since he's working on an internship for some major media company, but when we do, it's usually important. <em>I'm in Seattle. Are you coming back?</em></p><p>I send him a quick reply of confirmation and glance through the bus window. If I don't go back for her, I'll always go back for him, nub or not. The bus stops and I sigh, standing up. This is my stop, whether I want to be here or not. Freddie texts me again, asking me to meet him, but I reply that I need to see Carly first. And that this time will be different.</p><p>And I mean that it will be different.</p><p>I head to Carly's new apartment near the university, climbing the steps to the second floor. Her apartment door is unlocked, as if she knows I'd be here. And when I enter, she's in the small living room, her eyes on her cell phone in her lap. When I close the door behind me, she glances toward me, her eyes meeting mine. But this isn't like any other time that I've come to see her. I'm a little worried, especially with the fact that Carly never changes like this, not in this game we're playing. I frown. "Is everything alright?" I ask quietly.</p><p>"No, it's not alright," she snaps, looking away from me. "None of this is right, is it?" I'm about to ask what she's talking about, but she answers my silent question. "I love you, Sam, but I'm hurting you. I'm always hurting you, changing my mind, and I don't know what the hell to do about it. You shouldn't keep coming back. I know you're not happy."</p><p>I'm shocked, not because she pointed out what's wrong with our relationship on her own, but because she said she loves me. I haven't heard her say it since we've been together, and I've been trying not to tell her that I love her in return. Why else would I keep coming back, dealing with her and this stupid game? I cross the apartment and pull her to her feet, kissing her. When I pull away, she's staring at me as though I've lost my mind and I'm beginning to think that I have. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to tell you that I love you. But you always changed your mind when I wanted to, and I didn't know what to do. So, I kept it to myself."</p><p>"But why should you stay with me? I'm not worth the heartbreak, Sam. And that's all this relationship is."</p><p>"You're so stupid sometimes. I love you. I know that you'll change your mind over and over, but until the day that you change it for good, you're stuck with me. I don't care about this stupid game anymore." And honestly, I really don't anymore. If she's with me most of the time, as long as she loves me, I'm fine with that.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>